


The Funny Thing About Growing Up

by cantkeepupwithmyfeels



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Growing Up, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Redemption, Second Chances, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 14:04:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9238166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantkeepupwithmyfeels/pseuds/cantkeepupwithmyfeels
Summary: Growing up in the eyes of three kids that lives change dramatically before coming to join one cause.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Overwatch fic so I'm sorry for the quality. Also, please PLEASE correct my Spanish if need be.

Jesse McCree wasn’t a bad kid, not really. He was just born of bad circumstances, with a Pa that didn’t stick around long enough to see him open his eyes and a Mama with too much on her plate, he could have turned out worse. He was wild, his mama would always say, and too quick to throw punches when words would work just as well, but a good boy with an old sense of justice and loyalty. When she went, there wasn’t much more to stay loyal to, so he went too. 

He met a man not too far from his home in Santa Fe, in Darado, approached him after the boy had gotten into a scuffle with another over the gaudy hat the boy, and that’s all he really was, couldn’t of been much older than fifteen, wore. It had been his grandfather’s, Jesse had told him, ecstatic when the older man had gotten him a drink despite his age. He had owned a ranch when his mom was a little, taught him how to shoot too. The man asked him if he was any good. Jesse had just grinned despite the foul taste of his beer (“You get used to it, kid.” The man, Jackal he called himself, which seemed a little over the top if you asked Jesse but he kept his mouth shut) and brought him out back, lining bottles on the fence.  He only missed once when Jackal had clapped him on he back. Two days later, he had joined Deadlock. 

Despite the fact he knew his Mama was rolling in her too fresh grave, he  _ loved _ it. He was the youngest member, by far, but they didn’t treat him as such. He was apart of the gang, an equal, a member of a  _ family _ , something the boy wanted,  _ needed _ so desperately after his all laid six feet under. He lived for the camaraderie, the feeling of belonging, even if people got hurt along the way. He wasn’t a bad kid, just did some bad things.

Jesse was barely sixteen when the first drops of blood had began to dirty his hands. It hadn’t even of meant to happen, he had always shot to maim, not kill, something Jackal had been surprisingly patient with. Told him he would learn on his own time that sometimes it took a little more to survive. He dreaded how right he was during a raid on another gang’s territory. Jesse had been pinned down with no help in sight. Aiming for shoulders and knees wasn’t working anymore but he couldn’t bring himself to hit anywhere else until someone managed to sneak up on him from behind. He was too fast, too close, and the shot meant for the man’s side landed square in his chest. He was still shaking when Jackal, who was now his closest friend and mentor found him. Instead of offering him comfort, he had broken into a big grin and clapped Jesse’s shoulder with a joval shout of congratulations, which were soon followed by equally happy ‘Way to go, Killer!” and “Good shot, kid!”s from the rest of the gang below his stoop. He had nightmares that night that never stopped. He was a cold blooded murder at sixteen. He had truly earned his Deadlock patch that day. 

Killing never really sat right with him, but as the months went on he learned to ignore the lead weight in his stomach and continued to stain his hands red when necessary. He fought through the guilt, let the nightmares haunt them as they must. If they were going to punish him for doing what he had to survive, then so be it. If the guilt got him killed, well, that’s the way it had to be, the way he deserved to go. He was a bad kid, did worse things. If he went down in a fire fight, well he just hoped they had the decency to throw some dirt on him before the vultures found him. 

It wasn’t too much of a surprise to him when he ended up in cuffs before he was eighteen. Overwatch, a new government organization, had taken in a good chunk of the gang. He wasn’t sure who actually got away, if any, but he wasn’t going to ask, he wasn’t gonna say a goddamn word, as all six of the agents that had came to talk to him. And if he did say anything, it was to cuss them out in Spanish. Later he realized that was probably why they had sent Commander Reyes in. Jesse had put on his best ‘come at me’ smirk when the older man walked in, looking at an undoubtedly empty file that was for show if anything. The older man had opened his mouth to say something when he looked up, the words dying in his throat and he just gaped at Jesse a few moments. The smirk turned into a glare.

“ _ Qué mierda estás mirando _ ?” Jesse spat, which seemed to snap the other man out of his stupor. He set his jaw and looked back out into the hallway before turning to Jesse once more.

“ _ Quédate aquí _ .” He growled, as if Jesse could actually go anywhere handcuffed to the table. He slammed the door shut as he left but even behind the thick door he could hear the angry shout of “What the shit, Morrison?!”. Jesse couldn’t explain why, but that made him laugh so hard his stomach hurt.

Hours later, Jesse was settling into his room in the corridors designated for Blackwatch members.

“It’s that or prison, kid. Your choice.” Gabriel had said, looking exhausted but deadly serious.   
“For the last time.” Jesse had huffed, glaring holes into the table. Reyes had somehow actually gotten him to hold a conversation in English. Probably because he was still laughing when the older man came back. “I ain’t a kid and I ain’t no goddamn rat.” He spat back.

“Well seventeen isn’t exactly an adult either, kid.” Reyes replied leaning forward, hard dark eyes boring into his. “But if you want to be treated as one, I’m sure the court system will have no problem trying you like one, considering the charges. You’re not stupid, that happens, you lose every chance you had at a life. Lose every chance to prove your not a bad kid, that you just made some dumbass decisions. I’m offering you that chance. Think that this gang is your only way to make something of yourself, fine. I won’t lose any sleep over leaving your sorry ass in a cell to rot the next sixty years.” Jesse couldn’t tell if he was lying or not, something he was normally pretty good at. Reyes continued when the boy said nothing. “You want to grow up so bad, then make the grown up choice.”

Jesse McCree wasn’t a good kid, but he was working on it.


End file.
